


One Man's Legacy

by Prentice



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Character Study, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prentice/pseuds/Prentice
Summary: "There's been a change of plans."





	One Man's Legacy

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him.”

The words were out of Quentin’s mouth before he could pull them back, an old and familiar pain flaring brightly, briefly, as he watched the boy from the window. Even from here, he could tell the kid was upset and hurting; the low light from the other buildings illuminating the slight slump in his shoulders as his head turned to look despondently out over the city. It was a surprisingly striking image.

A young hero, downtrodden and unmasked, backlight by the city he was trying to save.

It almost made Quentin want to…

Well, he would say believe in heroes, but he’d stopped believing in those a long fucking time ago. Especially with men like Tony Stark in the world, playing at being a good guy – a _hero_ – when really, he was just like every other rich asshole out there. Reaping the benefits of other people’s hard work and, sometimes, even their lives and the lives of their loved ones.

It made Quentin feel sick, thinking about an asshole like Stark being admired by a kid like Peter. Sick and not a bit little pissed off, because men like Stark, they didn’t deserve it. Not when they’d been the cause of so much suffering to begin with.

After all, Quentin remembered what “the great Tony Stark” had been like both before and _after_ his little epiphany at the hands of terrorists. Remembered how he chewed people up and spat them out if he didn’t think they were worth his time and effort. Remembered how little the man had actually cared about the people working with and under him.

Quentin himself was a prime example of that: his entire life’s work – the culmination of _decades_ of research and development and _begging_ for scraps for funding – used and tossed aside like so much refuse just so Stark could – what…?

No, really, _what_?

Use it as a show-and-fucking-tell aid to at his own alma mater just wipe his ass with it a few seconds later? As if the sheer implications and potentiality of Quentin’s work didn’t mean a thing? To _anyone_?

It was – had been…

_God_, Quentin could hit something – _someone_ – just thinking about it. Even here and now, years later, with Tony Stark rotting away in his grave, Quentin still wanted to ruin the man. Still wanted to – to –

Back straightening, Quentin turned, ignoring Fury’s hard look and broken off reprimand at questioning his methods to slip right out the door and towards the little bit of privacy he knew he could find.

Because he might not be able to ruin Tony Stark anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still do everything in his power to completely ruin the man’s _legacy_.

Hand lifting, Quentin tapped his communicator, lips twitching when his people – _his_, not Stark’s – responded to him immediately.

“There’s been a change of plans.”


End file.
